Quite a number of years ago, the Seattle Symphony was doing
Beethoven's Ninth Symphony under the baton of Milton Katims. Now at
this point, you must understand two things:
1.There's a quite long segment in this symphony where the basses
don't have a thing to do. Not a single note for page after page.
2.There used to be a tavern called Dez's 400, right across the
street from the Seattle Opera House, rather favored by local
musicians.
It had been decided that during this performance, once the bass
players had played their parts in the opening of the symphony, they
were to quietly lay down their instruments and leave the stage,
rather than sit on their stools looking and feeling dumb for twenty
minutes. Well, once they got backstage, someone suggested that they
trot across the street and quaff a few brews.
After they had downed the first couple rounds, one said, "Shouldn't
we be getting back? It'd be awfully embarrassing if we were late."
Another, presumably the one who suggested this excursion in the
first place, replied, "Oh, I anticipated we could use a little more
time, so I tied a string around the last pages of the conductor's
score. When he gets down to there, Milton's going to have to slow
the tempo way down while he waves the baton with one hand and
fumbles with the string with the other."
So they had another round, and finally returned to the Opera house,
a little tipsy by now. However, as they came back on stage, one look
at their conductor's face told them they were in serious trouble.
Katims was furious! After all...
It was the bottom of the Ninth,
the basses were loaded,
and the score was tied.